An Iceberg's Tale
by FloorFigTwoGig
Summary: When Russia is found bloodied and unconscious by a spell-gone-awry, the Allied Forces and Axis Powers will have to delve into the wintry nation's mind to bring him back. I mean, how deep can it be? The guy only thinks of murder, sunflowers, and vodka, right? ...Right? More details inside.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: This story is an exploration of my favorite character's mind, past, or his overall character in general. I tried to include some historical and some other aspects into his often, misinterpreted personality. I also tried to stay true to the characters, so yeah… LONG STORY SHORT ENJOY THIS JOURNEY OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS OF HETALIA!

Rated M for some minor language and some bloodshed/violence. Better safe than sorry, yeah?

o0o0o

"What is he thinking?" An hour? Two? How long had it been since this meeting had started? The gazes in the room funneled towards one empty seat. Suddenly, the voice that had been previously droning halted.

"America…" Germany grumbled, "… do you have something to add?"

"Yeah! This meeting has been goin' on for an hour and Russia's not even here!" He said pointing at the vacant chair.

"We should have known better than to trust such a creep to host these." China huffed, "He's too unpredictable!"

As per tradition, each year a different country held the World Meeting, yet Russia was nowhere to be found. The nations sat gazing uneasily around the dim, enclosed room, the air thick. Was he going jump out at random? Or come out of a fern? It was looked down upon, but not uncommon, for a country to skip out on the often unproductive meetings, but the timbering country was always delightfully punctual much to the dismay of the other nations. Thus, his absence here was all the more unsettling.

"Ah, has anyone even seen him since we've been here?" France questioned.

A resounding 'no' chorused through the room. Maybe he was just running late. Thundering footsteps vibrated through the halls and burst the doors open.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Who's this guy?

"Ah, Canada." France gazed at the haggard nation. His bear, Kumajirou, was wrapped in his arms. "have you seen Russia?"

Canada shook his head, still recovering from his run.

"…Is it just me, or is it _really_ hard to breathe in here?" Canada spoke.

"Yes, the atmosphere is just…" Japan searched for the correct words. "…wrong."

"England." France said. "You're awfully quiet today."

England's spine straightened, but he regained his composure, "Y-Yes? What do you want, frog?"

"Well? Do you know where he is?"

America interjected, "Yeah! Didn't you get here a few days earlier than the rest of us?"

"Y-yeah, I saw him… He spoke to me once then showed me to my room."

"Who care anyway!" China threw his hands up, "He just scare everyone here!"

"Right. Well, if there are no further interruptions, I'd like to finish." Germany tapped his papers on the desk even though they were completely straight already. _What now?_ Germany watched as Italy's feeble hand rose.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Um… Germany… I…" He vainly tried to whisper across the table, "Can I go to the… bathroom?"

"Why do you need permission?" Germany massaged the bridge of his nose, "Just go!"

With a squeak, Italy stood.

"Now, wait a moment!" England's voice was sudden and sharp, "Shouldn't someone go with him?!"

All eyes focused on the now clearly worried chap. England nervously laughed.

"Well, we don't know where Russia is, so how do we know if it's safe?" England reasoned, "He might get ambushed or something."

"Oh, I'll go with him!" America jumped at the chance to escort Italy – or perhaps to leave this _super_ boring meeting.

"No, America, I—,"

"C'mon, British dude!" America walked to England and gave a reassuring pat, "I kinda have to take a leak, too."

"Eh? Oh, fine." England conceded with a drawn sigh, "Just… make sure you hurry up…"

"Italy! Let's go!" He motioned with a finger and turned for the door. "Okay!" The oblivious nation followed dreamily behind.

As they shut the door, the two noticed a considerable darkening in the stretch of hallway before them. _What happened to the lights?_ The similarly optimistic countries waved it off as falling behind on bills. They continued on their trek through the barren corridor lightly chatting about various foods.

"Have you ever tried puttanesca, carbonara, or ziti?"

"Um… I've eaten pizza!"

"Oh! Siciliana? Or Napoli? Or—,"

"Dude, hey look at the hallway!" America pointed down the hallway. Italy screamed. The end of the hall seemed to twist off into darkness. The end curled up and contorted into a jagged spiral seeming to disintegrate into the black nothingness.

"I have to turn back!" Italy cried but he turned, to his horror, and found that the way back was the same twisted route.

"This must be some kinda trick!" America said overtly sure of himself, "No problem, I just have to keep going!"

Italy gulped, freezing in his spot. _Oh, come on…_ America began before being covered in dust. A now very small Italy was disappearing down the hall at warp speed. "H-hey!" America followed after him as fast as he could.

"Hey! Warn me… before you… take off like that, man." America spoke through heavy inhales glad to have finally come to a stop. It really _was_ getting harder to breathe in this damn place. America dragged his eyes from the floor to Italy. _Whoa._ Italy stood agape in front of a door spewing forth transparent tendrils of black - like dark tentacles writhing and wriggling against the exposed walls of the hallway. An intense vacuum emitted from the entry and looming chaos - whatever chaos might've looked like, this was it - glowed from the inside, a deep purplish hue.

Taking a deeper look into the room, the two could make out what seemed like a bed, the shape horribly distorted, some shelves with a vast library of tomes, and a chair and desk with a feeble light curling in the demented atmosphere.

"I-I think I see Russia." Italy managed not moving an inch.

"No way!" America's disbelief was only quelled when he saw a vaguely formed figure in the room. Sure enough, it was Russia. The silver hair and off-pink scarf were unmistakable – though now rendered dull blotches. America stepped forward. Italy yanked his arm back.

"Wait!" The copper haired nation pleaded tugging once more. "You aren't going in there are you?!"

"This demon's trapped Russia! I have to get him out!"

"M-maybe we should get-,"

"There's no time!" America jerked his arm free, "Hold on Russia! I'm coming!"

Dashing into the room– hero complex on his sleeve – fully prepared to receive a speech of gratitude America instead was greeted with Russia, slumped in his chair, head covered in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

"R-rus…" America's speech trailed, the color drained from his normally rosy, young face. _What happened?_ America's eyes locked on the limp form. It was funny, America thought, that he still had that intimidating aura even when in this shape. The blonde nation approached him _Is… he? No, he can't be… He's Russia. He's my rival superpower… _America outstretched his arm, hand quaking, and shifted Russia's shoulder. Russia's head lolled backwards exposing his half lidded and glassy eyes. His clammy skin was covered in dried patches of blood. The image of Russia's battered face began to distance itself in a tunnel as America became overwhelmed with dizziness.

"America!" A familiar voice echoed in the back of his mind. America gripped the desk next to him but the world tilted upward on him and he felt the back of his head connect with the hard floor.

"America?" England's fuzzy face loomed over him, "You all right there, chap?"

As America came to the room quickly became crowded when the rest of the countries –China, Japan, Canada, France, Germany and a very tired Italy - filtered in.

"What's happening here…?" Germany said barely above a whisper.

"Mon dieu…" France spoke forgetting his English, "…is he… dead?"

England stood; his voice was strangely firm, "No. He isn't dead. He's more in a coma than anything."

"You are kidding me." France walked cautiously to the large country, and placed a finger under Russia's nose. Sure enough, he felt faint, warm breaths coming in slow drags. "H-he is alive!"

"I thought I bloody told you that all ready." England's tone reached its normal volatility.

"England-san…" Japan spoke gently, "How were you so certain that he was alive?"

"You've been acting really weird all day." America got to his feet finally finding his equilibrium, "What are you hiding?"

"Why this place so squiggly?" China asked mindlessly prodding a squirming book on the shelf.

"Yes, yes, just a moment." England said in dread tinged words – which came off more as aggravation, "Well, I got here a few days earlier than you lot, right? In those few extra days I had time to well… how do I say this… practice a few things…"

"How do you mean, England?" France crossed his arms and tapped a finger against his bicep.

"I, well, I started practicing my…"

"Magic?" America finished.

"Magic?" Everyone chorused in similar disbelief.

"…America, how did you—," England thought until he remembered America had caught him trying a newer curse out, "Yes. I was using magic…"

"Did you do this to him?" America's face resembled a curious, yet betrayed child.

"Just let me explain. I didn't exactly put him in this condition, no. As I was chanting, out of nowhere, he appeared in my spell circle! Um…Well just his head, rather… It was quite a scare so I…"

Everyone waited.

"Kind of… sort of… kicked him…"

"WHAT."

"Uh, needless to say, the spell then went haywire. And he disappeared." England lifted his pant leg revealing badly charred skin, "… and I felt the effects too. I guess he ended up here."

"We should call the hospital!" Italy whined in concern.

"It is not that simple." England explained, "It seems his body fused with the curse… it's starting to effect this world." He pointed towards the door noting that the path to the hallway was contorted beyond recognition.

"So is he still himself?" Canada asked holding his polar bear Kumakiru close to him.

"Well, it's like this, his body is now being taken over by the curse and his consciousness, what one might call his soul, is lost somewhere in his mind. He may very well be aware of this conversation, but his body is unresponsive."

"S-scary…" Italy shivered, "Does it hurt?"

"I was burnt by it, so it may hurt…" England's brows tilted upward looking over the Russian, his guilt piling up, "… but maybe his body can't feel it since he's trapped in his mind."

"England! This is insane!" France snapped throwing his hands out, "You know what this will look like to the rest of the world?!"

"It will probably seem as if we attacked him." Germany concluded darkly, arms folded.

"You think I don't bloody well know that!?"

The room broke out into a heated argument over what countries would be most affected by the media, due to Russia's critical condition, who would get the most blame, or why England was even messing around with the dark arts anyway. Everyone except one nation.

"So, England… How do I save him?" America spoke still looking at Russia. They had been rivals for a long time now, America had thought, he didn't want to end the rivalry this way. This wasn't how he wanted to win against Russia: by outliving him.

England's tight brow loosened, "Well, I suppose you could try to bring forth his consciousness..."

France released England's shoulders, "How can he do that?"

"Well, I don't know." England sighed, the stress beginning to age his face, "It's not like you can just go in there and bring him out."

"Why not?" America firmly stared at England. _He's serious_ England thought.

"Well, you can but," His words seemed like caution, "The mind is a dangerous place. Russia's mind seems like it would be unpredictable…"

"It can't be that deep!" China protested, "All he wants is flowers and to kill everyone!"

"Hm." Japan thought before speaking, "Do you think we could _all_ go in?"

"What?!" China exclaimed more than questioned.

"Yeah! Then we'd find him quicker!" America perked up. Canada nodded in agreement.

"Big eyebrows! Talk some sense into him!" China cried.

"Hmm, there may be safety in numbers." England confirmed.

"Fuzzy chin, tell him!" China pleaded.

"I am always cleaning up your messes, aren't I?" France smiled.

"Germany, you sane, you talk to them!"

"If Japan and Italy are up to it, then I will go." Germany looked at his two allied countries who nodded, Italy a bit shakier than Japan.

"Ahh!" China covered his face, "I don't want to go into Russia's head!"

"Fine." England began chanting as a vortex opened up around his feet. "You can go home… but I don't know how you'll manage that…"

The Englishman indicated the door which was now simply non-existent. Shreds of the woodwork clung to the frame as a piece –almost like an omen – snapped off and fell into the depths of nothing. The color drained from the countries' faces _Just what did England get us into? _

England stepped back giving his portal a smile and nod of pride, "This will get us in there! You guys all sure you want to go in?"

Everyone glanced around and nodded firmly. England spoke, "We all must hold hands so that we don't get separated."

The countries looked awkwardly at each other but agreed and clasped hands. China, however, crossed his arms.

"China-san…" Japan pleaded, "Take my hand, please."

China observed the lightly concerned East Asian's face. He groaned and stretched an arm out, "We better get in and out of there soon as possible!"

"No problem, China!" America gave a heroic grin, "You said it yourself! He can't be that deep!"

And with that minor consolation, the countries began a chain hopping in one by one still gripped together - England leading and China taking up the tail.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, I had some of these pre-written, but now it's all spontaneous, so the rapid updates are done with. But I will update fairly often, I hope. Anyway, Enjoy this chapter! The plot finally gets going!

o0o0o

Falling was an odd sensation. Falling for a minute was even stranger. What was at the bottom? Would it hurt? How long will it hurt? When are we—KRUNCH.

The cold hard ground punctuated racing thoughts. Canada sat up with a groan rubbing his back which he had _oh so_ tenderly broke his fall with. Running his eyes over his surroundings he gasped. _I've gone blind finally?_ He panicked _Oh man, oh maple… _He snapped his gloved fingers to his glasses to see if they were still in place. They were.

"A-America?"

A lengthy grumble replied, "…Canada, you okay?"

"I think I lost my vision…" The nation choked out feeling awkwardly about with his hands.

"I can't see a blasted thing either." A familiar voice rang out, "… and why is it so damn cold?"

A few more moans followed. Their sight slowly returning to them, the nations peered at each other. Everyone was present and in one piece it seemed. Flecks of white spotted their vision, slow at first but then increasing in number. Howling tongues of wind licked at their necks. The ground below them began to fill with the flecks. A noticeably large piece landed on Canada's nose.

"Snow!" vague nostalgia attached to Canada's tone.

A sudden, harsh wind wailed on them dusting the nations in white. From horizon to horizon, on this seemingly flat layout before them, there was nothing but blinding white snow.

"Ah!" China cried out rubbing his arms to soothe the goose bumps prickling his skin, "I told you this was bad idea!"

"Right!" America recalled pulling the collar of his bomber jacket around his ears –now tinted pink, "We came here looking for Russia, right? All we gotta do is just start looking around!"

"Which direction?!" Italy breathed into his hands frantically.

"Well, England?" France glanced expectantly in his direction.

"Any direction I suppose…" England spoke through tense lips his arms tucked tightly into his armpits, "We'd better get a move on, though, before we freeze to death."

And a fine point it was, their sight was being even more obscured by the gusts of snow whirling around them. No direction seemed any more likely to be their salvation in this tundra. Canada and Germany seemed to be fairing the best, their winters blustering and punishing, albeit this was on the extreme side. The group, using the two as their shield from the onslaught, pressed on in whatever direction keeping their space and maintaining their pride.

Germany suddenly halted in his tracks, "What is that?"

Canada squinted through the flurries. He could make out a few, no, several thin silhouettes growing in the distance. Something was off about these silhouettes - the way they moved just wasn't human – and the speed at which they were growing was nothing short of alarming. "They're coming!" Germany spoke evenly readying into a battle stance. Canada stumbled backwards a bit before bumping into America, who was already ready to fight. The fumbling nation gathered himself and got into position as well as the rest of the countries – albeit a few shaking more violently then others.

America laughed clouds of steam puffing from his mouth, almost comically, "Let's show these guys whose boss!"

America proceeded to dash forward, headlong into the oncoming monstrosities.

"A-America, wait!" England called hopelessly after him.

The rest of the countries charged forth. America came face to face with one of the silhouettes who seemed no friendlier up close. They certainly had human-like shape but the fact that they had two "legs" and "arms" was the only faint similarity. The head had sagging, torn black flesh, the hollow eyes sunk in and a few rotted teeth hung miserably from the gaping maw of the retched creature. It wrapped a disgusting, yet surprisingly strong hand around America's left arm. Lucky for the USA he was right handed; he landed a clean blow directly into the horrid flesh of the beast. It recoiled backwards shortly before regaining its stature and continuing after the young country.

"What?!" America backpedaled expertly against the shocking speed of the silhouette, "That didn't hurt it at all…"

The other countries met similar strife. England began chanting a spell, but nothing was happening, _My magic… doesn't work here?_ A particularly strong blast of icy wind struck France and England, making them shut their eyes and leaving them vulnerable. The monsters they had been fighting gratefully accepted this opening grabbing onto their torsos and taking unforgiving bites into their flesh. Both nations released pain soaked screeches, China turned leading him to be grasped by his wrists and lifted easily off the ground, tossed and dropped brutally on his head. The noticeable thud on the ground was enough to disrupt the fights going on between Germany – who was shielding a very scared Italy – and Japan – who had run off on his own to fight. The two fighting nations turned only to be attacked from behind cold hands clutching their throats and lifting them helplessly from the snow and sputtering for air.

"Oh, no!" Italy cried out, "Germany, Japan!"

The badly-tremoring nation spun around taking in the absolute desperation of his situation. _What can I do_? Italy chanted in his head over and over. He felt hot tears welling up in the corners of his eyes almost stinging his ice-bitten cheeks. More creatures were encircling the nations. _We're going to…_ Italy almost couldn't fathom the word in his violently shaking head, no, he wouldn't say it. Not now.

"Oh, there you guys are!" A jubilant voice called, "What was taking you so long, comrades?"

Like a dark statue slowly swaggering towards them, Russia appeared on the scene, his scarf, perfectly fitting an action movie cliché, whirling in the gusts. Italy looked up somewhat more or less worried than before. "Russia! HELP!"

"You are needing my help?" Russia giggled lightly his breath warming the air in front of him, "…I am surprised you had come for me at all."

"Hurry… Russia…" Germany spoke between tight gasps.

"You guys are impatient." He spoke gently pulling out a long metal piece that seemed lightly rusted. "Who to help first…?" He wondered cruelly as a playful smile danced on his features.

Another painful bite was taken out of England's leg, "AH! Russia!"

"Oh, maybe England." He looked up at the countries now all being either dangled by their limbs or strangulated by their throats.

"Quit… Screwing… around!" America sputtered angrily.

Russia closed his eyes but kept the smile. He raised his pipe and carelessly brought it down upon the monster holding Germany. It instantly vaporized, causing Germany to plummet though he landed on his feet. He tried to swallow a lungful to make up for lost oxygen but the cold air only let him cough in response. Painfully clutching his throat, he glared up at Russia. Russia maintained his grin as he walked to each nation's captor releasing ruthlessly hard strikes. He looked up at China's captor.

"China, look at you!" He laughed, "You are upside down."

China was dizzy, having been tossed about like a ragdoll but no less capable of expressing his recent disdain for the lumbering country, "You are the worst! We should have never come here! Who care if Russia never wake up! It better that way!" He shut his eyes tightly to combat the vertigo he was experiencing. Russia's pipe landed a particularly hard blow upon this one, firmly lodging half his pipe into the ground and snapping the other half.

"Ah!" China's sleeve covered hand went to his cheek. He pulled it away slowly, noting it was now stained bright red. A shard had broken off and marred him.

"Oh, China! I am sorry!" Russia seemed to rush over and crouch to the nation's aid.

Whether reeling from the dizziness or enraged by Russia's inappropriately playful demeanor, China whipped his arm smacking approaching nation's hand – which was in the process of outstretching to him – and grunted loudly. It almost resembled a roar, in fact, "Stay away from me! Don't touch me, murderer!" He quickly closed his mouth with his hands.

Russia snapped his hand back and stood completely straight, his smile somehow completely different than before. He looked down at the country through closed eyes, "I trust you will all fare well on your own from here on out, da?" He did not wait for a response before turning and disappearing into the white distance, scarf and all.

"Urgh…" America stumbled to his feet, "Russia, wait!"

"America!" England shouted in a stern tone, "You aren't going to do much good splitting us up any further…"

"But…" America looked forlornly in the direction the Russian had just disappeared. _It's true_ America thought bitterly choking down his heroic instincts.

"It can't be helped now, America-san," Japan spoke, "He is probably too upset to come with us anyway."

Japan shot a–though disguised beneath his stoic features - curious glance China's way. The nation was clearly embarrassed about his vertigo-induced outburst. His entire face was tinted red and his fists were tightly balled against the snow, his honey eyes now dark and distant. The nations had previously thrown around rumors about Russia having _murdered his own parents_ with that very pipe that had saved them, but no one ever asked him about it, let alone brought it up in the heat of emotions. It seemed embarrassment was not the only thing that racked China as he cast his head to the side and retched violently.

"China?!"

The nation's eyes rolled back as America dashed to catch him. He gently tapped his face, china's eyes blinking a few times but still rolling backwards, "Hey, China! China, man, you're scaring me!"

France leaned over America's shoulder, "I think he has a… how you say it, England?"

"Yes, that's definitely a concussion." England finished urgently, "Try to keep him awake, America!"

"We- we can get hurt in here?!" Italy asked his voice rising in pitch, "I thought this was just Russia's imagination!"

"No. this is his mind it's a bit different than his imagination," England explained with a groan, "His mind is an actual place. It can have a physical manifestation, where as his imagination is what he perceives with his senses, his eyes, ears, and the like - imagination can't exist as a physical place because it's just what he's experiencing not what's actually there." _Like England's imaginary friends_ France thought with a mental scoff. England continued, rubbing his injuries, "And I definitely felt those grimy teeth dig into my arse, and China most certainly has a concussion."

"Wait a minute." Germany spoke finally having his breathing returned to him, "A concussion? Isn't that a human condition?"

"Y-You're right it is…" England realized, "Does that mean that here we are…humans?" That must've been why his magic wasn't working anymore he thought.

The nations soaked in that statement. America desperately tried to keep China's involuntarily travelling eyes open, "China, come on wake up, man! You can't go to sleep now!"

England gently scooped some snow into his hands, "Hand me that, France." He pointed to France's handkerchief which he kept on him at all times. France handed it to him and England promptly ripped it in two. France winced, "What are you doing, Angleterre!?"

England packed the snow tightly in his hands and wrapped it in the cloth. He delicately pressed it to china's face, "Making a cold compress." He handed it to America, who seemed to have aged in the last few minutes, "Here, America, hold it to his head and keep trying to keep him awake."

America nodded and looked at China whose eyes were now seemingly under his control, but still very far-off and glassy.

"China, can you hear me?" China's eyes wandered over America's face, like he couldn't make sense of it. America traced down the clammy face of China and towards his neck. He noticed something weird - A small thin string just pushing the skin down wrapped around his throat_. What is this_? America wondered _it must be constricting his air_… America tried to break it, but to no avail, and left a nice slice on his finger. England also noticed this anomaly. He looked at America.

"A-america! You have one, too!" England pointed to America's neck. America's face painted in horror, he spoke, "England, your throat!" The rest of the now-human-countries gazed around, their faces much more terrified as their necks were all uniformly constrained by the strings. These weren't there moments ago… What are these for?

"Excuse me guys…" A quiet voice piped in, "We should get going now shouldn't we? We'll _really_ die of hypothermia if we're humans now…"

"Canada, where were you during that fight?" France asked.

"The monsters just went past me…" Canada said with a bitter laugh though it was cut off by the uncomfortable string around his neck.

o0o0o

The men continued on in the direction they had last seen Russia. The tundra was endless, and almost pointlessly, cruelly, and miserably long. America and France were hoisting a barely conscious China up by his arms. The men's ears and noses burned from the cold and their fingers were numbing. The shorter hairs on their faces were coating in white, but the blazing cold would just not relent. The humanized nations perked up, however, when they heard a muted giggle in the distance.

"R-Russia!" Called America, his jaw quivering. He was grateful that china wasn't all that heavy as he sped up his pace, dragging France along.

Their bodies were burning from fatigue and their necks were sore and chafing from the strings but the morale boosting giggles kept them speeding up their pace. They were getting close now they thought. Just a little more! They spotted two rectangular figures in the distance. Great. More monsters? They had been lucky up until now, to not have encountered anymore. They most certainly couldn't fight them off now, injured and fatigued. The snowy landscape began to fade into darkness, the wind silenced – it was now very quiet, and they instead came up to two doors, relief running through their bodies, although… what now?

The giggles continued, but something was more noticeable about them as they were closer to the sound. They were a child's. They had a stark familiarity about them. The giggle rang out again sending a shiver down their spines.

"Well which door is the right one?" America asked. He whipped his head backwards. The giggles seemed like they were approaching from behind now.

"I-I don't know!" England said irritably, "Any of them, Russia must've gone through one!"

The giggles were getting closer. And faster.

"I don't feel right out here, can we hurry up?" Japan urged, glancing behind him.

Another giggle.

"I think we should split up…" Germany suggested, the current atmosphere bothering even him.

Two giggles this time, it sounded as if it was in their ears.

"Ah!" Italy cried, a loud thud coming from behind, shaking the ground.

"Quickly!" France cried, dropping China, "Just grab someone and go!"

Thud. Thud. Another giggle.

"Shit!" America knelt, Japan came to his aide lifting up China.

. . The giggling was now continuous.

"Go, go, go!" England shouted in a fright as the ground quaked beneath them. The men grabbed which ever person was nearest them and took off to a mad dash for the doors.

.thudTHUDthUDTHud.

The two groups managed to push the doors open at the same time. One way or the other, they were going to find Russia. It was just a matter of when and how.


	4. Chapter 4

Blinding white covered America's vision. He blinked a few times, but he couldn't seem to wipe the haze out of his eyes. He knew he was on the ground, his neck was being caressed by dozens slightly itchy fingers.

His vision slowly drifted into focus in blue spots. He sniffed in a bit of air – or as much as he could – before coughing violently. _Oh yeah the string…_ He recalled with mild annoyance. What scent he did manage to catch was really sweet, and floral. It made his whole body warm to breathe it in. No wait, he was warm? He blinked just a few more times and was blasted by yellows and greens. He sat up feeling his neck. The string there felt much tighter than before. He inhaled lightly. That's all he could muster under this new pressure.

Slowly gazing around him, America gathered in this peculiar, albeit pleasant, scenery. On both sides of the man there were rows upon rows of sunflowers, some at least twice his height in size. They resembled tall emerald sentry with bright yellow helmets neatly standing at ready, occasionally giving way and bending to a rogue warm zephyr. The flora was so dense there was no way he could see through them at all. They cut a clear path in front of him paved in soft, yet neatly trimmed, grass. _Is this a…?_

"It's a maze!" A quiet voice finished with wonder.

America hopped out of his skin causing the other person with him to jump as well.

"Canada?!" America gasped irritating his throat, "Dude! Warn me before you sneak up on me like that!"

"America, I've been awake for about thirty minutes waiting for you to wake up," A heavy sigh laced his words, "I was sitting right here. You didn't even notice me?"

"Well, maybe if you were a little louder." America suggested not even looking in his direction, "How do we get out of here?"

"I don't know…" Canada shook his head, "I looked at the end of this path here. It forks and it's completely the same in both directions."

"What was that?" America was already half way towards the end of the path.

"America, don't ask if you aren't going to listen."

"Speak up, Canada!" America coughed, shouting causing his string to feel tighter on his neck.

"See?" Canada caught up to him, "Now, can you slow down?"

"Fine, whatever!" America conceded, "Wait a minute. Where's China?"

Canada's eyes widened, "Oh, maple leaf! Do you think he's alone?!"

"I hope not." America said. His facial expression melted into an indignant one, "Why do you say that?"

"Say what? 'think he's alone'?"

"No, no, maple or whatever." America questioned, "It sounds stupid."

Canada's cheeks flushed, his brow knitting slightly, "Is that really important right now?"

America walked, his hands in his pockets, "No, just trying to stop you from sounding like a complete nerd."

Rolling his eyes, Canada grumbled, "Says the fat ass that spends his Saturdays alone playing videogames hours on end."

"What was that?" America turned to face him.

Canada squeaked plastering on a nervous smile, "Nothing! L-Let's just go." He tried to adjust his neck-string slightly feeling it squeeze tighter. Not that it helped.

The two chose a random direction and began walking silently cursing each other out under their breath.

o0o0o

_Oh, this is very bad_ Japan knitted his hands in his yukata as he sat in the grassy path set in front of him. His far-off brown eyes fell upon the unconscious China sprawled out in front of him. Japan leaned forward and gently blew air into the ashen face. Nothing. Japan looked around the towering sunflowers as if to check for anyone watching.

He, with as much grace as he would use at a tea ceremony, gently nudged China's arm, "China- san."

Still no response.

_If only I had a phoenix down_, he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any. He noted the older country's long hair was sticking to his face where blood had dried and his clothing was coated in several loathsome body fluids. _Should I leave his clothes like this? _He certainly did not want to remove them. How awkward would it be if he woke up in the middle of it? He played the scenario in his head, only for it to result in his body becoming a twinkle in the sky.

"If I were a westerner this wouldn't be a problem for me... would it?" Japan sighed. "I wonder where America is." America had been holding on to China, too.

Or for that matter, where did Germany or Italy or all the others go? Why was it just him and China? The air between the countries had been cordial, but very strange and impersonal. Japan almost found himself hoping the country wouldn't wake up, just to avoid that awkwardness. China groaned.

"W-what…?" China sat up slowly. He hissed and clutched his head, "Aiyaa!"

"China-san!" Japan's hand motioned towards him but refrained from touching him, "You shouldn't move too much! You have a concussion."

"Japan, what are… you doing here…?" China's pained eyes wandered over the younger man.

"Do you remember? We were in Russia's mind?" Japan felt a little ridiculous saying that sentence out loud.

"What…?" China laughed lightheartedly, "You are… joking with me?"

Japan shook his head worry dressing his face, "China-san, you mean you don't remember?"

"Japan, enough joking!" China said sternly, "Where is this place?"

_It can't be helped, I guess. I'll explain later…_ Japan thought standing up, "This is my maze. Let's see if we can get out of here."

"Japan…" China stood up slowly, but found his legs had become jelly, and fell into Japan's back, "Aiyaa…"

Japan's spine stiffened. _Is he… making a confession?!_

"I can't walk…" China despaired, "…Japan, can you give big brother a piggy back ride?"

Japan gasped. _Big brother…?_ Japan felt the air growing uncomfortable around him, "China-san, are you okay…?"

"Of course I am! It just one of those dreams where you can't move." He reasoned. Japan exhaled _oh he thinks it's just a dream! Things don't have to make sense in dreams… _Of course this also meant he was still affected by his head injury, but at least it didn't have to be as awkward! Japan crouched allowing for china to climb onto his back. He firmly gripped china's legs. China wrapped his sleeves around the slightly shorter man's neck.

"Urgh… my… back… Hold on tight…" Japan grunted as he wobbled to stand. He no longer had the strength of his country behind him, and China seemed to still have all the weight of his. It didn't help that the string was constraining his breath.

Japan began to hobble forward down the flower-fenced path. _This lack of strength… It brings back… regrettable memories…_ Japan's inner thoughts were cut off by a strange sight.

Standing at the end of the path was another person. It was a thin teen boy with very lightly colored hair. He wore a simple white gown and shorts that fell just before his knees. Turning around, his hair fluttered almost weightless, and it appeared his translucently pale skin was glowing. _Is that… a ghost?_

"Is your friend dirty?" The boy spoke, his high voice heavy with accent, shattering his ethereal aura.

"Ah! I'm not dirty!" China snapped.

The boy chuckled familiarly, "I am knowing where he can get cleaned… Follow me."

Japan nodded and followed despite China's whispered protests. He had no idea how to get out of this maze otherwise.

o0o0o

Roses. What a strange smell to wake up to. England inhaled a bit before realizing his face was sufficiently buried in something soft and warm. He nuzzled into it warming up his frosted cheeks.

"Oh, _England_," A nasally laugh rolled through the air stinging the Englishman's eardrums, "If I knew you felt this way about me, I would have prepared better."

England shot straight up on his knees, "What were you doing to my face, bloody cheese-eating git?!"

"I might ask what you were doing to my vital regions…" France rose up on his elbows exasperated, "but that is neither here nor there… I just woke up, too, _my little black sheep_."

"Just shut the hell up, frog!"

"Maybe if you fed me one of your nast-,"

An unfamiliar noise snapped the squabbling men's attention. Germany sat up and groaned, "Where are we?"

The men took this moment to gaze around them. It was snowy… but now the landscape was heavily forested. The trees surrounded them but that chilly, still air was what sealed the eerie air this place gave off. It was notably darker and much quieter than the tundra-like scenario before.

"We are missing half our group…" England looked at Germany who was currently dusting himself off.

Germany stood tall. "Where is Ital…"

"GERMANY-Y-!"

The distant, shrill cry sounded off from the east before being clouded in a flurry of coughs. Peering a bit further into the trees revealed Italy dangling by his belt from a high tree branch. After helping the poor man down the men managed to gather their heads.

"Are we ever going to get out of here?" Italy whined.

"How are we supposed to find Russia with these stupid landscapes?" England's annoyance almost served as a heat source for him, "It's not fair!"

"I am going to guess this one goes on forever, too." Germany said pacing, looking through the forest for any light. That would signal a way out.

"I am… hungry…" France finally grumbled. His stomach did as well. The countries never really needed food; they simply enjoyed the taste and the experience of eating. However, now that they were human, their empty stomachs were something to worry about. The sounds of sniffling broke their despaired groaning. Their eyes shot to a ruffling bush.

Slowly a boy looking not more than 6 years in age hobbled into the clearing. His rounded cheeks were tinted pink and his nose, slightly big for his face, was even darker in shade. Most notably, his lilac eyes stood out against his dull, yet very warm looking garbs – obviously made of some kind of fresh killed beast. Even his head was wrapped in the furry garments. The boy gasped at the older man standing before him. His eyes paled even further in fear. He then, to the shock of the men, stepped forward.

"Are you Vikings?" He spoke, his small voice curious.

"N-no." England answered simply a bit caught off guard, "Are you… Russia?"

The boy tilted his head, "That name is pretty… but no… I am called Rus."

The men looked at one another. The boy sniffled again, albeit very quietly. It was at that moment that Italy noticed something. Tears. They weren't pouring out; they had simply been falling from the boy's eyes.

"Have you been crying?" Italy asked dumbly.

"What?" Young Rus touched a sleeved and to his small cheek, "Oh, I suppose I have been…"

The sleeve fell revealing pale skin, generously spotted with blue and yellow patches.

"Oh, are you hurt?" England walked up to the boy using a practiced fatherly tone. France followed.

"No!" The boy covered his arm and violently recoiled away from them, "It is just my friend! That is how he plays!"

England's brow pulled painfully into an interesting twist of emotions. He then smiled warmly, "Well, friends aren't supposed to hurt you. Maybe you should find some more friends?"

"My friend hurts me because he is protecting me. I cannot have any more friends, he told me he is all I need." The boy spoke defensively. Germany nodded in understanding, not that it was necessarily a good thing.

The boy continued, "He is making me stronger." He pointed to his chest and laughed tears still rolling their way out of his now-closed eyes, "Here is called Kiev. My friend is guarding it. Pain and tears are just a side-effect."

"There are other ways of expressing your love for someone," France said crouching to the boy's height, "Pain doesn't have to be involved."

"You are funny men. Where are you from?" The boy's expression changed to an amused one.

"Far, far away." England said for lack of a better explanation, "Who are you being protected from anyway, lad?"

"Well, I have been fighting many people since I was here." The young Rus spoke still lighthearted, "General Winter is the only one who will help me."

A strange and harsh wind brushed past them chilling them to the bone.

"By the way, thick eye browed man…" The boy called their attention once again, "What is the meaning of 'lad'?"

"Oh, 'lad' is what you call younger boys where I'm from." England said with a chuckle.

"I do not blame you for that misconception," Rus giggled, "but I do not have a cock!"

The men froze in shock - or maybe out of actually being cold – before apologizing profusely.

"Oh, maybe I did not word that correctly..." Rus's smile fell but after a bit of thought, tried again, "…I have a pussy!"

England quickly tried to silence her, "So, your friend General Winter, where is the chap anyway?"

"He is all around." She spoke, "I think he is here right now… the wind has picked up."

"Here right now?" Germany repeated looking around him, "I don't see anyone."

Rus was petting her furs with her gloved hand nervously, "Would you like to meet him? I think he wants to play."

The wind jostled the tops of the trees knocking snow off the branches in heavy clouds, but that was only that beginning of their visit with the General. The gusts whipped their ways through the trees, the snow making each blade of wind almost visible to the eye. The violent undulations of the thick-trunked trees were unsettling. It was then that Germany came eye to eye with a large, cold face. It glared at him, as if giving him a once over. Germany – as if by instinct – fell into a defensive stance. Wrong choice, it seemed. Large icy hands, like white hot flames, grasped his arms and snatched him from the ground. He hissed at the touch.

"Germany!" The men shouted in panic. Italy rushed to the floating German, who was struggling in the permafrost grasp. He was quickly halted by the sharp blasts emitting from the whirls surrounding them. Italy was growing rather frustrated. _Why am I so afraid in these situations!?I want to help someone! I want to help Germany! _Unfortunately, all he could muster from this inner monologue was some tears and a muted whimper. _Shit! I'm useless!_

Two sharp cracks were punctuated by a throaty, rattling scream. That's when they saw their fellow ex-nation go limp, flying - at least - a few stories in the air.


End file.
